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    dots Submission Name: Teeny Tiny (3rd Excerpt)dots

    Author: Raivn
    ASL Info:    33/f/al
    Elite Ratio:    4.28 - 1222/916/231
    Words: 763
    Class/Type: Story/Romance
    Total Views: 841
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4929

       Third Excerpt from my story...picks up right after the second excerpt.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsTeeny Tiny (3rd Excerpt)dots

    "It's so cold," Trinity said, shivering, "I wonder if I could die from exposure." Drew looked at her tiny body

    "It's not that cold," he said. Trinity glared at him.

    "Excuse me, Mr. I Know Everything. You're not seven inches tall." Drew laughed. Trinity's frown grew.

    "You're not either," he said, "I'd guess it was more like six and a half inches." Trinity would have given anything to be able to kick him.

    "What I'm saying," she struggled to stay calm, "Is that I am a itty-bitty person dressed only in my underwear, it's the middle of fucking February, and I am really, really cold! Do you think you could try and find me something small enough to use as a blanket?"

    "Do you have any doll clothes?" Drew asked. Trinity buried her face in one of her now oversized pillows, and began to shout muffled obscenities. Drew tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and looked at him, her tiny face pink from lack of air.

    "Drew," she began, "I am twenty-three years old. Why the fuck would I have any doll clothes? Get me a washcloth, please?" Drew looked at her in puzzlement.

    "Why?" he asked. Trinity narrowed her eyes.

    "Because it's the only thing I can think of that would be small enough for me to use as some sort of cover up," she told him, plopping down on the bed. Drew nodded in understanding, then left the room. He returned in a few moments with a pale, purple washcloth.

    "I thought you might like the purple one," he said. Trinity had to smile.

    "I don't really think it matters what color it is, since no one else is going to see me," she said, "but thanks all the same." She struggled to fashion some sort of garment out of the cloth. Drew watched her with a measure of amusement. She looked up at him.

    "You're loving this, aren't you?" she asked ruefully. Drew grinned.

    "Loving what?" he asked, innocently. Trinity frowned at him, again, her tiny forehead wrinkling with the effort.

    "I am completely at your mercy," she said, "you can't make me believe that you don't enjoy that. After all, isn't this exactly what you said you wanted the other day?" Drew's smile faded.

    "You can't possibly believe that this is my fault," he said, "I was just playing around with that idea." Trinity looked at him irritably.

    "What the hell am I supposed to think?" she asked. "When I went to bed, I was a normal size. I wake up and I'm seven, no, excuse me, six and a half inches tall. And who just happens to find me? It's not like I've got a lot of options right now." Drew frowned at her.

    "How do I know you didn't do this yourself?" he asked. "You've been fooling around with that witchcraft stuff. Maybe you did this so I'd have to take care of you." Trinity punched her pillow in anger.

    "Why in the hell would I want to do something that put me at your mercy?" she cried angrily. "You can't take care of yourself, much less me. And that witchcraft shit was back when we first broke up, no wait, when you dumped me, and it's not like I could do anything. If I could have, it wouldn't have been this, that's for sure!"

    "What do you mean I can't take care of myself?" Drew fumed. "I'm not the one who's seven inches tall here..."

    "Six and a half," Trinity retorted, "And at least I'm healthy." Drew looked at her.

    "What do you mean by that?" he asked. Trinity exhaled heavily, closed her tiny eyes, and slowly shook her head.

    "Drew, you're not well," she said, "You haven't been for some time. You're way too skinny, and you're always sick, and you look horrible. You look like the life is being sucked out of you. If this is what 'being happy' does for you, you were definitely better off when you were so unhappy with me." Drew scratched the back of his neck.

    "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. Trinity sighed, and leaned heavily against the pillow.

    "It doesn't matter," she said, "All I know is that I need you right now, and there's really no point in us fighting about this." Drew nodded slowly in agreement.

    "Okay," he said, "What do we do now?"

    Submitted on 2006-06-30 00:36:00     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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      Gendel and Apathy were born inside the childs mind. Apathy was a creature living in the mind, a creature uncapable of any feeling other than hate. Apathy was a tortured, tortured by what she was. She took her pain and she used it as a sword against ideas that lived inside the child. She fed off the ideas and lay fat and pregnant inside a hell in the mind of the child. Pregnant with ignorance, born to the mind and named Grendel. Grendel held Apathy's hate, he was her hate, her blade of death. Apathy slept in hell while Grendel fed off ideas in the childs mind. He lived near the childs attention where the ideas came from.
    Few ideas still existed inside the mind. They hid in shallow pools throughout the vast valleys of the brain. They hid inside dreams, holy and pure,from the subconcious. Grendel could not enter the dreams, dare not enter. Nothing as completely evil as himself could survive in a place like the dreams. They were an untouched uncorrupted place, if Grendel entered the dreams they would soon become nightmares and the child would wake and he would be trapped, he would be erased from the childs mind.
    Tonight the child lay dreaming. Apathy slept in her hell and Grendel walked in the mind unconscious, in a trance like state while the childs attention held his dreams. Outside the childs mind, in a music box across the room a hero slid into vibrations and soundwaves that traveled through the air and into the ears of the child. The hero was Knowledge, his name was Beowulf. Beowulf was a traveler, spread through life and passed on and on. His purpose was to erase ignorance and apathy in their many forms. He came from from books and lived inside minds, to be passed on once attained, through the mouth of people he occupied and onto others that could hear of him. He lived in paintings and music, many different places where knowledge and ideas could be found.
    While the child slept and Grendel was unaware, Beowulf slipped into the mind through the subconscious. He greeted the ideas and talked with them of his plans to rid them of the evil inside the mind of the child. He would be the protector of ideas. The ideas regarded Beowulf with skepticism, laced thinly with hope.
    Spoke from the ideas, "What makes you capable of conquering Apathy and her conceived fruit when no one else has?"
    Beowulf smiled and replied, "Because I am knoledge, and I have come to you, to this child, through dreams. I have faith that I will not be forgotten like many of his ideas. I live and come from far away, I am clever and the child will remember me."
    And with these words the ideas rejoiced and dined on the only thing that ideas have to dine on. There was a great feast and they were happy. The ideas didn't know how Grendel would be defeated, but Knowledge had come, and he had come to be remembered.
    Once the child woke, from the pits of hell, Apathy, bearing hunger and hatred opened her eyes. She yawned, stretched...cood and finally called after Grendel. Grendel came quickly. He stood at Apathy's feet and waited for her to speak.

    When words did come from her salivating tunnel, they came as emaciated whispers.
    Her whispers, " Grendel, I am starved. I am weak and laying in this hell growing weaker still. I cannot move to feed myself, but you have the strength of the immortal. You can get ideas for me and I can gain my strength and then we will, my darling ignorance, be able to conquer this mind at last. It will be our home."


    Grendel left at once, wasting no time he started towards the direction of the subconscious. Grendel walked with increasing momentum, grunting and stomping his ugly feet, he advanced in the direction of dreams.
    The ideas gathered in the corner of dreams. Humid tension sucked at the air inside the subconscious and replaced it with a thick suffocating wetness. Beowulf stood in the middle of the room, solemnly holding his head down, as if praying. Grendel came inside, tearing tissue and cells as he tore the door from its hinges. Beowulf steadied himself as Grendel advanced towards him. Inside it became dark, a feeling of fear choked through the room. The ideas trembled inside the dreams that were quickly turning to nightmares. The warriors fought and the tension rose. The ideas gasped for air as Beowulf tore hair and flesh from Grendels body. Grendel screamed, the tension growing, growing, growing, the ideas trembling, fear mounting. All at once the child woke. He looked about his room, searching for light in his bedroom. He clutched to his sheets, violently trying to shake his fear from his nightmare from him like sweat. The child sobbed, paying no mind to the audibility of his vioce. The radio continued to play, for a moment turned to static and then a melody drifted from the speakers. The child lowered his head to his pillow, looking still around the room. His eyes fluttered, the sleep he'd been trying to push away overcame him. A dream crept upon the child, the dream filled with clever ideas that formed the face of a Bard that told the child great stories. The child's mind was wiped clean, free from ignorance, Apathy soon to die. Knowledge sacrificed to the greater good.

    | Posted on 2007-01-29 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]

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